We're Burned For Better

Chapter Seven

The next morning, Aelora awoke early.

Everyone had. Nobody could sleep well, knowing that she would be shipped off to King's Landing soon. Each day waiting for Aegon's reply was an anxious one. Aelora was like a ghost, walking through the halls like she was already gone.

Rhaenyra could hardly look at her without feeling complete and utter shame, but she forced herself to, knowing she'd regret it when Aelora was gone.

The family spent each day like it was their last together. And it was.

Late one evening, a raven came from King's Landing a fortnight after Rhaenyra sent her terms. It had the King's Seal. The writing was sloppily scrawled upon the scroll, the handwriting familiar to Aelora. It read,

"To my sister who calls herself Queen, I have an answer to your proposal.

Aelora Velaryon comes, and the fighting stops.

For now.

She is hereby betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, and will bear his name upon their marriage. The council has decided that they will marry on the steps of the Sept, in front of the masses.

The union will unite our house once more in the eyes of the realm.

She will be treated well, if all who are involved cooperates. Fill your end of the terms, and there will be no conflict.

I'm expecting her arrival within the week, or I will send the Iron Fleet. It would serve you well to not disappoint me or keep me waiting.

To Aelora, you know what is right, and you know what you must do. I will see you soon."

- Aegon Targaryen

Aelora was called to her Mother's chambers that evening, where she and Daemon were waiting for her. Rhaenyra handed her the scroll, letting her read it.

Aelora glanced at it, before scoffing sadly. "They're taking my name, too."

"Don't forget who else bears the name Targaryen," Daemon said, laying his hand on her shoulder. "It is your Mother's name, just as it is mine. You'll bear it as a symbol of your Queen. It doesn't have to be a symbol of him."

"Your brother will be called Targaryen when he succeeds me," Rhaenyra added.

Aelora nodded, although she was beginning to see that it may be becoming an improbable possibility.

It was decided by Lord Corlys and her Grandsire when he was King that Rhaenyra's first heir would be born with the name Velaryon, after Laenor. When the heir sat upon the Iron Throne, they would be recorded in the histories as a Targaryen.

That fate was supposed to fall on Jacaerys, as he is the firstborn male. Aelora secretly hoped that it still would, but she also prepared herself for the other possibility that it wouldn't.

"It isn't just that my name will change," Aelora confessed, sighing. "Everything is changing. I just returned home to you, and now I have to go back."

Rhaenyra pulled her daughter into her arms, holding her tight.

"It won't be for long, my dear. I promise. We will come get you when the time is right. Everyone, including your brother. For now, you have to be brave. You have to do what you can to make it through."